The Night of the Moon Shadow
by Paradox Eyes
Summary: A lost and injured agent travels homeward with a most unusual female companion.


The Night of the Moon Shadow

The vast prairie stretched deep, with apparent infinity in all directions. It's boundlessness made it easy to believe that it could loop back on itself, drifting above and below, perhaps even touching upon different realms of existence. Lush grasses and spring floral array waved in the breezes with an occasional whirling flourish here and there. The sun which had so brilliantly played on the dancing green waves had all but disappeared. There was an ominous energy growing in the air, the kind that is born of impending storms.

The horse and rider moved along with purpose. Behind them, mounting the horizon, storm clouds brewed threatening and dark. The black stallion needed no urging. Although, he felt an urgency emanating from the human on his back, his only "horsely" concern was the promise of oats and sweet apples at the end of the ride. He knew it wouldn't be long now. Within the last half hour, his sensitive nostrils had picked up the scent of the trains smokestack on the wind. Even now, though the wind had shifted direction to accommodate the coming storm, he remembered the direction of the smoky scent and it pulled him forward.

James West rode steadily, occasionally glancing off in the distance to monitor the developing storm's progress. Getting caught in that storm out here in the open prairie would not be a good thing. But with the train less then four miles off by his reckoning, he was fairly certain they'd make it there before the storm hit too hard. He had arranged to catch up with Artie and the train near the small town of Whitehorse. Their last assignment had caused them to separate as was frequently the case. With loose ends now finished up, they would join up back at the train and leave for Denver tonight.

The stallion snorted, breaking his pace. The smooth prairie suddenly sloped downward and blended with rockier terrain.

Jim turned again toward the storm. It was increasing and moving faster than he had originally calculated, the thunder and lightning growing closer now, promising a deluge of impressive proportions. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. He had no choice but to keep moving. Finding shelter out here was an unlikely possibility. Their pace slowed as the stallion picked his way along rocky ledges and downward into a narrow gulley. If they were going to keep moving straight to the train, they'd have to cross over and cut up the opposite side. The storm's intensity escalated in sound and in darkness.

They moved as quickly as the stallion dared. The storm and it massive wall of rain bore down across the landscape. Large drops of rain began to plop in abundance around them. They had just begun their ascent on the far side when the sudden roar exploded through the gulley and overtook them. Flash floods in these parts were fleet, unpredictable…and deadly.

The stallion lunged upward, propelling himself on his strong quarter horse hindquarters, away from the onslaught. The clay, now wet, became slippery under his hooves. Just then…lightning struck the rocks up ahead of him. The resounding crack caused the stallion to rear upward, striking out in the now heavy rain as his hind feet gave way in the wet mud. He toppled backwards, the sudden upheaval costing him his balance and unseating his rider. The gushing, raging torrents of sudden mud and debris caught the animal and pulled him down, twisting him like a rag doll.

The black horse however, was strong in body and heart. He struggled and fought his wet, raging captor. His hind feet found something solid and he thrust himself up toward the edge of the torrent, scrambling with all the power his muscular frame could push him with. The rocks tore at him, pulling his legs out from under him and still he fought madly to climb upward. Finally he pulled himself up above the rush of the flood. He stood trembling and blowing hard from his nostrils. Pain burned in his left foreleg.

The division between earth and sky was extinguished in the storm. The thunder was now almost deafening in the darkness. The rain struck in heavy sheets, stinging as it hit. The stallion waited. His training held him in place despite his natural instincts. There was no sight, nor sound… nor scent of his rider. Then instantly, lightning struck again…too close!! The last of the stallion's discipline scattered on the winds and he bolted. He galloped toward the only sanctuary he knew. Guided by instinct, he headed back on course for the train. By the time he was a half mile from the lights that sat snakelike in the darkness, he could barely put any weight on his injured leg. His once proud spirited dancing was now reduced to a painful slow hobble and he grunted miserably with every step.

Artemus Gordon had not noticed the storm's fast approach. Only when the daylight dwindled, did he look up from his research to discover the foreboding storm bearing down across the prairie. Now, in the last twenty minutes he had looked out across the prairie several times hoping to catch a glimpse of his partner approaching. He had been expecting his return at any time. He tried not to give into worry. Jim West was a resourceful man…he'd have figured out how to deal with the storm and was likely holed up somewhere waiting it out. Still, until he was safely back home, Artemus would probably indulge in a little fretting. He poured himself a glass of wine and settled in with a book to pass the time.

An hour and a half after the storm had begun, Artie decided once more to have another look outside, not that there was much to see. Darkness had settled in and intermittent lightning was all the illumination he would get until morning. He looked anyway. Nothing…no wait… The quick brilliance lit the world outside only for a second, but it was enough for a glimpse of Jim's black horse, close to the train. Artie quickly made his way to the stable car and pulled the door open, dropping the ramp. He waited expectantly. A moment later, Blackjack lurched up the ramp. Artemus could not believe what he was seeing. Jim's horse, terribly lame and covered in mud, struggled into the car. His saddle was pulled askew and hanging to one side. The leather was deeply scarred. The horse had obviously been battered.

The shock of the sight preceded a sudden jolt of fear in him. He ran down the ramp, into the pouring rain.

"Jim! Jim where are you?….JIIMMM!!

There was no answer and the sickening realization that the horse had returned without his rider in this awful storm swept through him. He stood staring out into the darkness, the rain washing in rivulets thru his hair and down his face. He knew he was helpless to do anything until the storm passed and morning offered light to search by. At this point there wasn't even a clue as to where to look. It was with a feeling of dread that he turned and headed back up into the stable car. Now soaking wet, he turned for one last look at the dark prairie, praying that wherever Jim was, he would be alright.

Blackjack stood, head hung low, shaking, breathing hard and holding his injured leg so it bore no weight. Artie carefully looked him over. "What happened fella?…Huh? Where's Jim?…Is he alright?…Is he hurt?…. Where did you leave him?"

He didn't expect an answer but he knew his voice would calm the stallion while he cautiously ran his hands up and down the injured leg. Even the shoe had been torn away. Artie sighed and relaxed somewhat, at least the leg wasn't broken. It appeared to be sprained and badly bruised, but not broken. That was a relief…Jim was really fond of his horse. Artemus removed the soiled and damaged tack. There was blood red clay packed in every crevice of the saddle.

He then prepared a warm mash. He brought towels and liniment. He rubbed the black down as the horse hungrily ate the mash. Blackjack finally stopped trembling and Artie wrapped the leg. It would have to do for now. He made sure both horses were settled in with hay and water. Then he headed back to the parlor and the telegraph. He tapped out a message to Denver, notifying them of the delay. Then he sent an urgent message to the sheriff in the town of Whitehorse, two miles away. He asked the sheriff to bring men at daybreak to help search for his missing partner. He finally sat down, rubbing his worried face in his hands. It was going to be a long and stormy night.

Crystal brilliant moonlight burst through the now broken clouds. Slender, silvery legs on well shaped hooves picked their way through the wet rocks and rubble. They stopped short at the prone form lying there in the red mud. Reaching down, the white horse nuzzled the man's face.

_"Human?"_ Her thoughts spoke to him. _"Human?…Can you feel me?!"_

She nuzzled him harder, feeling the life force still pulsing in him. The manform stirred, moaning…his eyes flickered open. The mare gazed into those eyes. They were the color of the churning clouds, just before the twisting funnels drop.

"Buh…Blh…Blackjack?" He whispered weakly.

The mare's ears pricked and rotated at the sounds. _"Blackjack?" …The stallion. _The scent of the stallion still lingered on the human, in spite of his recent agitation in the raging mud and waters.

"You're not my horse." Jim was able to speak more coherently now. "Where did you come from?"

He tried to sit up but bolts of pain flattened him instantly. His head throbbed so intensely that each breath sent waves of nausea through his stomach. His right leg seethed with tearing pain. He couldn't even move or feel his left arm, but his shoulder hurt like hell. The rest of his torso felt beaten and bruised. The mare sniffed at the blood trickling down his face from the gash in his head. She sensed his anxiety as he realized the extent of his injuries.

He reached up with his right hand and caressed the side of her head. "You from around here sweetheart? Is your owner nearby?"

She found his voice gentle and soothing. She nickered softly in return.

Jim West did not even want to consider the fate of his own horse right now. He was in trouble and it didn't look good except for the mare standing over him. _"Where did she come from? _She was perfectly dry . Immaculately groomed. _"How could that be? It was storming. They were in the middle of nowhere…unless…the flash flood had carried him farther than he could have imagined." _He had no concept of how far or what time it was. It was dark except for sporadic flashes of lightning. The momentary moonlight had vanished. The storms still rumbled in the distances around him.

The mare held her head down close to him. He needed to get up. She shook her long mane and his right hand drifted into it. Finally he wrapped his hand in the thick strands. "Come on sweetheart, pull me up." He sucked in his breath and braced for the pain. The mare lifted her neck and he struggled to get his feet under him. The effort was excruciating but he managed to stand finally, leaning heavily against the mare's withers. His legs shook but he stayed upright. He did not dare release his grip on her. She stood calmly, supporting him while he breathed deeply to try and clear his head. He coughed up some muddy water, the effort almost making him black out. There was no way he could possibly mount the horse. He wondered if he could walk holding on to her. As if she could read his thoughts, the mare took a few tentative steps. He leaned against her, willing his legs to follow. His right leg was badly cut and battered but it bore his weight well enough to take those first cautious steps.

And so they moved through the night. Slowly, deliberately. The mare choose their course and Jim prayed she would take him to her ranch or wherever she had come from. After seemingly hours of struggling and frequent rests, they stopped. The first hint of dawn was beginning to soften the eastern sky. Jim was exhausted and the pain so great, he could limp no further. The mare had stopped near an outcropping of rocks. Jim sank to his knees and tucked himself under a bit of an low overhang for shelter. Within minutes, he was unconscious. The mare gazed down at him, then up at the lavender sky where the dawn was approaching. She turned away and stepping into the endless prairie grass, she faded from sight.

Artemus watched the eastern sky give itself over to the dawn light. The knot in his stomach had not left him since last night. Presently, four men on horseback approached the train. Once they had dismounted, introductions were made. The sheriff, Joel Cambridge had met Artemus two weeks ago when he and James West first arrived in the area. Two of his deputies, Gus Hathaway and Bart Grisholm had accompanied him. The third man, a Native American, was introduced as Gray Wolf.

They stood together now, discussing the details of West's disappearance. Sheriff Cambridge gave assurances that they would do their best to find him. In particular, Gray Wolf was hailed as the best tracker in the territory.

"If there's any sign of him out there"…the sheriff stated, "Gray Wolf will find it."

Artemus and Gray Wolf regarded one another for a moment. Then Gray Wolf spoke. "You said your friend's horse returned without him?"

Artemus nodded.

"May I see the horse?" Gray Wolf asked.

"Of course, come this way." Artemus led him to the stable car and lowered the ramp. They walked up and entered. Gray Wolf studied the stallion and then examined the injured leg. "I can make a strong medicine poultice for the leg if you like. It will help in the healing."

Artemus thanked him and said, "perhaps later."

Gray Wolf walked over to the saddle, still caked in mud. "This is your friends saddle?"

"Yes." Artemus answered, "It was just hanging on the horse when he returned." He swallowed hard. He hated to think of what had happened to cause such a state.

Gray Wolf poked at the clay packed under the skirt. "This red clay…it is only found in one place within fifty miles of here. Dead Horse Gorge and some of the gullies that feed into it. The closest gully is about three and a half miles northeast of here. We should begin our search there."

Artemus asked, "You are quite certain about the clay?"

Gray Wolf answered, "Yes Artemus Gordon, I am quite certain."

They then headed back outside to join the others. Mounting their horses, they set out across the prairie with Gray Wolf leading them. Artemus carefully watched the landscape around them. This place seemed boundless and somehow eerie… Only occasionally was there a break in the continual sea of grass. They rode past a small pristine clearing not far from the train where the grass did not grow for some reason. But riding up to and away from it, you would not know it was there. _"This place could hide a multitude of secrets"_, Artemus thought as they rode on.

The hours of the morning passed into the afternoon. The four horsemen had been traversing the gully and areas near it with no success. They had moved on the next nearest gully as well. They had split up and rejoined several times. No sign of James West was forthcoming.

By late afternoon, the western sky began to darken once more. The men and horses re-gathered. The sheriff watched the threatening sky and finally spoke.

"We should head back now, the storms are brewing again."

Artemus was adamant that he would not leave off the search for James. "Please, feel free to return if you want to sheriff but I'm not going back without Jim. I'm staying to continue searching as soon as the storm lets up enough.

"You don't understand Gordon, there's no choice in the matter. These storms sweep through this prairie fast and hard. They're killers. There'll be no sheltering once they hit. There's a reason they call it Dead Horse Gorge and it's not because it's horse heaven. Many a horses bones have washed from these gullies into that gorge. There's more than a few human bones among them. The floods come without warning. Chances are, your partner is dead, buried somewhere beneath the stones and clay. I'll not risk any more lives to join him. Once those storms hit, you won't be able to search longer anyway. There's no sense in getting yourself killed too. Go back to your train. We'll start again at daybreak."

Artemus looked around, caught between reason and growing desperation. "Alright", he reluctantly agreed. "But I'm not giving Jim up for dead until I find a body." He slowly reined his horse around to follow the searchers back toward the train and town.

Gray Wolf rode beside Artemus. "I am sorry we did not find your friend. There are other gullies we can search, but it simply made sense that this was the place based on the direction you expected him to travel. I do not believe the horse would have survived crossing more than one gully in the storm. Nor do I believe they were as far south the gorge itself. I give you my word Artemus Gordon, I will help you search until you decide to stop…or we find him."

"I very much appreciate that. Thank you Gray Wolf."

Artie's eyes scanned the prairie as the skies darkened. _Jim could have started on foot for the train couldn't he? Was he out here somewhere in this sea of grass? Was he lying hurt somewhere? _He'd kept an eye on the sky all day as well. Buzzards. They too would be searching…if there was something to find. The thought was anguishing, but since he'd seen none, he took what hope he could and held to it.

They reached the train just as the skies opened up, casting rain down again in torrents. The thunder and lightening swept onto the prairie once again in a violent display. Artemus stood at the sliding door of the stable car, the voice in his head pleading. _"Please be alright Jim. Please be alright, we're coming back. Just hang on." _He tugged the heavy door shut, but it's weight was nothing next to the heaviness in his heart.

The second day's deluge and the cacophony of the storm roused Jim from the darkness. He felt the wet and cold more this night than the first. He trembled with chills and his injuries protested with maddening pain. The rain ran heavily off the rock ledge sheltering him. He held his good hand out repeatedly to catch a bit to drink. He still had no idea where he was in relationship to the train or how far. Over the years, he had come to depend on Artie's "sixth sense" abilities to show up in the right place at the right time. However, this time he had to admit that Artie probably wasn't going to find him. At least not alive. He knew he had a serious head injury, the slightest movement felt as if his skull would shatter. The dizziness and nausea were ever present. He wanted to just give in to sleep but he knew that he had to try to find help. Maybe if he could just get up again, he might see the lights of a nearby homestead or ranch. He tried to pull himself out from under the overhang, but he was so weak now, he could not make his muscles obey. His left arm was still useless. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness envelop him once again.

Gray Wolf finished packing and wrapping the stallion's leg with the poultice he had promised. "These plants make strong medicine, they will help in the healing," he said to Artemus.

"The leg is badly bruised, but sound." He ran his hands over the rest of the black horse. "He has many, many bruises and scrapes." The horse spirits were watching over him or the fast waters would have taken his life. Many unwary lives have been taken in the floods." He spoke no further of Jim's apparent demise, knowing the subject was upsetting to the sad dark eyed man watching him.

"I want to thank you again Gray Wolf…for the help with Jim's horse. Jim will be very grateful as well when he gets back."

As Gray Wolf's eyes met Artie's, he read the worry and the fixed hope hidden in them. "You have much faith in your friend's ability to survive out there. The sheriff spoke the truth about the dangers. But no one can guess what the prairie spirits will do. I believe they watch over those who are lost. We may yet find your James West alive and well. I will return in the morning to join you." He then left the train and rode away in the dark. The rain was still falling and the lightning still flickered in the night clouds.

She made her way steadily to the rock outcropping. The man still lay where she had left him this morning. She reached her nose downward and along the edge of the rock shelf.

_"Human?"_ Her thoughts called to him. _"Human, it is time. We must go. I will not be able to come again for a long measure of days. You must come now!"_

She reached under and pushed at his arm. He stirred, moaning weakly as he came awake. Jim realized the mare was back. "_Where did she keep coming from?"_Hey sweetheart, you came back." He ran his hand over her velvet nose as he whispered. "Can you pull me out of here girl?"

"

He grabbed a handful of mane and she backed up carefully. Knitting his brow, Jim considered her odd actions. It was as if she understood what he was saying to her. She dragged him clear of the rock outcropping and stopped. She nuzzled him. He was shivering and the determination she had sensed in him earlier was much weaker now. She shook her mane over him once again.

_"Come human. You must come now, if they are to find you."_ Again, he grabbed a handful of mane and she helped lift him to his feet. His legs wobbled under him. Panting hard, he shakily held on to the mare, but the plain fact remained that he was much too weak to walk any distance. She moved him closer to the rocks and stood expectantly. He realized that here was an opportunity to climb onto her back. She stood perfectly still, waiting.  
He wasn't sure he could manage it, but he somehow made his legs climb the rocky ledge high enough to slide over onto the mare's back. The effort made everything spin and the nausea was overwhelming. He lay straddling her back with his head on her neck. His breath came hard and his head and heart pounded from the strain. She waited until he seemed calmer. Then she began to walk into the prairie night.

Artemus lay on the plush sofa, staring at the ceiling. Sleep came in restless patches. The storms had swept through the early evening and night. The violent deluges haunted him. _"If Jim had trouble the first night, how had he managed this one? Was he even still alive? How were they ever going find him out there if he was hurt, or worse…dead."_ Artie clenched his eyes and banished the thought. He wasn't going to consider that yet. Instead he waited for the morning, starting at every sound. Every light on the train had been lit, a beacon in the night. He kept hoping Jim would suddenly just walk through the door.

The mare moved carefully through the darkness, lest she cause her precious load to unbalance and slide off. She could now see the train lights in the distance. There… There was the other one of his kind. She caught the scent of the smoke stack. She was approximately a third of a mile from the train when she entered the small grassless clearing. She was nearly halfway across it when her passenger slipped. The mare quickly side stepped to adjust but it was too late. He fell heavily to the ground and lay there, still and silent. She nosed at him, trying to rouse him but he remained limp and unmoving.

She stood watch over him now, gazing occasionally at the train lights in the near distance. To her left the dawn would be arriving soon and she would be forced to leave. She reached down and pushed at the man again, but he did not respond. If the other one did not find him soon, if the searchers could not find him, he would perish here. If they left him, perhaps she could take him with her. She liked the feel and sense of his spirit. She was certain that he would prove an excellent companion.

As the dawn began to break, she observed two riders approach the train. The side door opened and another horse and rider stepped out to join them. Ears held alert, she raised her head high and whinnied long and willowy across the distance.

Artemus had been watching from the train in the meager early morning light. The sheriff and Gray Wolf rode up as Artemus led his gelding down the ramp. He greeted the two men as he mounted up. They sat on their horses discussing their search plans for the day.

"My men will bring more riders later this morning," the sheriff was saying. "For now, I say we ride south to the gorge and work our way back to the gullies. Gordon, as much as I'd like to hold with you that he's still alive, my experience says otherwise. If we can find him at all, if he hasn't been buried, we'll probably find the body there."

Gray Wolf sat quietly, listening as his eyes scanned across the prairie. He always carefully considered the world around him. For him, all things were connected and they spoke to one another. He observed their three horses, as simultaneously they turned their heads and pricked their ears forward. Instead of engaging in the discussion between Gordon and the Sheriff, he simply said, "Come, we will go now." He kicked his horse in the direction of the animal's attention.

"Gray Wolf! The shortest route to the gorge is this way." The sheriff waved his hand in a different direction.

"I will join you there. Or you can come with me and we will cut over to the gorge in a while." Something in his manner pulled at Artemus. He decided to join Gray Wolf. The sheriff shook his head and followed along.

The three headed through the tall damp grass with Gray Wolf leading the way. A short time later all three horses stopped dead in their tracks, refusing go any further.

Artemus grimaced at his gelding, "Come on boy!" He slapped the reins across the chestnut's rump. Rex snorted defiantly and jerked himself to one side. He dug in and began to back up. Gray Wolf's pony followed suit, refusing to move forward. The sheriff's big buckskin reared up and twisted away from their intended course.

"What the heck?!" The sheriff looked at his companions.

Gray Wolf's eyes squinted, studying the area before them in the early dawn light. He could see nothing save the unbroken sea of grass. He knew however, that the small clearing lay hidden up ahead.

"I have lived my entire life on this prairie, but I do not know of anything in this place that would cause the horses to behave like this. I see nothing there and yet, they know something we do not."

He removed his rifle from it's buckskin sheath and slid to the ground. "The clearing we passed yesterday is up ahead."

Artemus and the sheriff dismounted as well. The three of them walked toward the clearing. There was no sound to accompany the early morning light, only a gentle breeze stirring the wet blades of grass. The men approached cautiously. Soon the horizon of the tall grass gave way to the clearing.

Artemus caught his breath at the sight of the prone form in the stained blue jacket. He ran the last fifty yards, a sickening knot of fearful panic entrenched in his gut. Finally reaching his partner, he dropped to his knees and reached under Jim's shoulders, pulling him upward.

"Jim!" He cried out, "Jim!!"

The gray green eyes slowly opened and a weak whisper answered. "Artie…where have you been?" He smiled slightly.

Artie released a deep huff of breath in relief. The sheriff stepped up, handing him the water canteen he'd carried along, just in case. Artie held it to Jim's lips so he could drink the much needed fluid. "Easy Jim," Artie murmured. "We're going to get you to a doctor, just hang on pal."

After swallowing, Jim's eyes closed again.

"Jim, stay awake! Stay with me, OK? You've taken a pretty bad hit on the head. Can you talk to me? Can you tell me how bad you're hurt otherwise?"

Jim forced himself to stay conscious and he struggled to speak. "I…I can't move my left arm and my leg…hurts bad."

Kneeling next to the men, Gray Wolf removed his jacket and folded it to pillow Jim's head. Artie examined the obvious injuries and checked for broken bones. Other than the sharp cry elicited when he probed the shoulder, he found no other indication of broken bones. The cut on his leg had stopped bleeding but the angry wound was swollen and inflamed.

"We're going to have to carry you back to the train Jim. It may be a little over a quarter of a mile or so."

Jim nodded slightly, then spoke softly. "Bring the mare along Artie…she saved my life…I rode her here. We have to get her back to… back to her owner."

Artie lifted his eyes up and looked around them. Knitting his brow, he looked back down at his partner. "What mare Jim?"

Jim gave Artie a somewhat harsh questioning look. The momentary irritation strengthened him and he spoke again with serious clarity. "Right there Artie! The white mare with the black spot on her neck… standing right behind the sheriff."

Artemus and Gray Wolf both turned and stared past the sheriff. He also pivoted around for a look. There was nothing there but the open prairie and the train in the distance. The sheriff turned back to Artemus and spoke in a low voice. "He hurt his head real bad, huh?"

Gray Wolf however, leapt to his feet, eyes wide, looking carefully around him. He stepped back while reaching inside his leather shirt. He pulled out the small medicine pouch he always wore. Holding it reverently up before him in his cupped hands, he began to chant and sing ancient prayer words in his people's native tongue. His voice, melodic and low cut through the morning air.

Artie gazed back down at Jim's bruised face. Not willing to upset his injured friend any further, he answered calmly. "Sure Jim, we'll bring her along. I promise. Just take it easy, OK?" Jim's eyes slowly closed and he drifted once more into the numbing darkness.

The sheriff who had been studying the scene suddenly spoke. "How the devil did he get himself here in this condition? He couldn't possibly have walked here, much less dragged himself all this way. And look at the ground and the grass. Not a mark, not a track, not a broken blade anywhere. Nothing. And his clothes are half dry, he should be soaking wet and spattered with sand from the storm last night. It all looks kinda strange don't ya think?" Artemus surveyed the scene. The sheriff was right.

The mare stood watching the three men. The one kneeling next to her human …she knew he was the one they had searched for. The one they had to reach. She stepped forward. She nuzzled Jim one last time. _"Goodbye human."_ She looked at Artemus and felt his concern. She touched her soft nose to his cheek. _"Take good care of him." _Then she stepped into the endless prairie and vanished.

A prickling chill shot through Artie, repelling him and jerking him back as though electrified. He was certain something had stroked the side of his face. The words…_"Take good care of him"_ lingered in his mind as if someone had just spoken them. He held his hand to his face, eyes wide in amazement, looking around him.

Sheriff Cambridge squinted at him. "You alright Gordon? You look like you sorta had a seizure or something."

Artie shivered as he looked in bewilderment at the sheriff. "I'm fine…I'm fine. Just help me with Jim, alright?" "Gray Wolf?" He called to the man still chanting toward the western sky.

Gray Wolf finished his words and turned to Artie. "Yes Artemus Gordon?"

"We need to carry Jim back to the train, take his legs and lead please?"

"Of course."

They carefully made their way back carrying the unconscious man. As they passed by the horses, Artemus whistled to his gelding. Rex obediently came along and the other horses true to their herd nature, followed. As soon as they reached the train and carried Jim inside, the sheriff volunteered to ride and bring the doctor back.

Gray Wolf helped Artemus with Jim. The two only spoke enough to coordinate their efforts to get him cleaned up and settled into bed to await the doctor. Artemus sat down next to Jim, watching over him. Gray Wolf then left to gather more plants for his medicines. He returned a short while later, just as Doctor Kellum from the town arrived.

Gray Wolf pulled up a chair at the parlor table in the varnish car and began sorting the plants he had gathered. He observed Artemus give him a solemn passing glance as he walked through the parlor, heading for the back door of the train.

Artemus stepped outside onto the platform while the doctor examined his patient. He stood a long while, breathing deeply and starring out across the prairie, pondering the morning's events. He replayed the horses behavior in his mind. Finding Jim. Jim's insistence about the white mare. The sheriff's observations troubled him. His own reaction to something unseen, unnerved him. He weighed the evidence…or lack thereof…with all the consideration he employed in day to day duties. Finally he re-entered the varnish car. Gray Wolf was chopping and mixing plants into a bowl.

"Gray Wolf?" Artie addressed him. "May I speak to you about something…of a personal nature?"

Gray Wolf looked him calmly in the eye. "What is it you wish to speak of Artemus Gordon?"

"In the clearing, where we found Jim, he spoke of a white mare. It startled you. You jumped up and began to chant. Why?"

Gray Wolf regarded him silently, then began to speak. "I was giving thanks to the spirits of the prairie for the return of your friend. I was giving thanks to the white horse spirit for bringing him back."

"There wasn't any white horse there Gray Wolf," Artemus responded.

"But there was, Artemus Gordon. There was…in the long ago time. The elders of my people tell a story from a time before the white man came to live in the prairie. There was a man who came across the prairie with his family in a wagon. He brought with him, a white horse, a mare. The mare had with her, a foal, only weeks old. One night the big storms came. The mare and the foal were lost. The man found the foal alive, but all he ever found of the mare was a handful of her white mane in the sharp rocks of the gorge. The man and his family took the foal and continued on their journey across the prairie. It is told among my people that when the dark storms come, the spirit of the white mare comes as well. She searches for the foal she will never find. She finds instead, those who are lost in the prairie. They tell a story of an Indian brave who was injured in a hunt, far from his camp. The storms came and the white mare found him. He was able to ride her back to his people. If you speak with some of the old ones in the town, they will tell you story of when the town was first built here. They will tell you about two small children who were lost in the prairie for three days. The searchers could not find them. The storms came and they were feared dead. The next day, the children returned to the town. They said they had ridden a white horse home. A beautiful white mare with a black half moon spot on her neck. No such horse has ever been seen or found in this area."

"You may believe what you wish Artemus Gordon, but my people believe this prairie is a sacred place where many spirits dwell, including the spirit of the white mare. Your friend is fortunate that she bestowed such favor upon him. He is still alive. We might not have found him in time, if at all. There are moments and there are places, Artemus Gordon, when all that is left…is what you believe in." A small smile came to his face as he finished. "Among my people she is called……."

Artemus was not fluent in Gray Wolfs language but he understood enough of it. The name was clear.

Artie was about to speak when Doctor Kellum entered the parlor. "Mr. Gordon?"

"Yes doctor! How is James? Will he be alright?"

"He 's going to be fine. Although he does have himself a nasty concussion. He'll need to be kept quiet with lots of rest for a couple of weeks. His shoulder was dislocated, not broken. I've repositioned it. In time it should heal with no problem. The cuts on his head and leg need to be kept clean. I've no objections to the use of Gray Wolf's poultices. I've seen them work wonders on injuries before. They'll help remove any dirt or infection remaining in the wounds. I'm leaving medicine and instructions. I'll stop back again tomorrow to check on him. Pulling on his coat, he looked at the men again.  
"He's very lucky you found him when you did. He wouldn't have lasted much longer out there. Good day gentlemen."

"Thank you doctor." Artemus saw him to the door. Walking back he looked at Gray Wolf and spoke. "I'm going to sit with Jim awhile. If there's anything you need, just let me know."

"I will do that Artemus Gordon."

"And Gray Wolf?"…

"Yes?"

"Thank you…Thank you for everything."

" You are quite welcome."

Artie let himself into Jim's quarters as quietly as he could. As he sat down, Jim opened his eyes. "Jim. You're awake…how are you feeling?"

Smiling slightly, Jim answered, "Warm….dry….alive."

Artie smiled back. "I'm rather partial to that last one myself! You hungry Jim? Would you like some soup or something else?"

"Artie?"

"Yeah Jim?"

"The flash flood…I lost Blackjack." There was a sadness in his green eyes.

"No you didn't Jim. He's in the stable car. He came home the first night. At least he knows when to come in out of the rain!" Artie gently chided his friend. "He's a little beat up and a little lame. He looked like the devil himself tried to ride him and I'm pretty sure he threw him!!" He couldn't hide his amusement. "That horse is as hard headed and stubborn as you are! By the time you're able to ride again, he'll be good as new."

Jim's face stretched into a grin. "And the mare? Did you get her back to her owner?"

The question caught Artie completely off guard. He looked at Jim lying there and knew this wasn't the time to start "that" discussion. He quickly recovered. "She's back where she came from Jim," he said conversationally.

"Good," Jim answered. "She was a real sweet mare Artie. She probably belonged to someone's kids."

"Maybe," Artie replied, then... "Hey Jim, want to know what her name was?"

"What?"

"Moon Shadow."

Jim smiled again and his speech grew softer. "It fits her. You know Artie, I'd might still be out there,… probably dead now if it weren't for her. She found me…..she….saved…..my….." His voice faded. His eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep again.

"I know that Jim." Artie gave a silent thanks to whoever or whatever might receive it.

He sat awhile, looking out the train window at the vast stretch of prairie. It's visual endlessness gave it an other worldly quality. It somehow seemed different than other prairies he'd seen. It felt different. He sat deep in thought, recalling Gray Wolf's words and mulling it all over in his mind.

And in the end, in the here and now, in this moment…in this place, Artemus Gordon was certain of what he believed.

Fin.  
_  
_


End file.
